


soft epilogues and harsh truths

by coffeewithdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x08 coda, Angst, Bottom Dean, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Top Castiel, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeewithdean/pseuds/coffeewithdean
Summary: It doesn’t end in a bloodied fight to the death with a wendigo, or a dramatic self-sacrifice. It doesn't end in a round of mind-boxing Lucifer in the Apocalypse 2.0. It doesn't end in a 6 by 8 foot prison cell.How it ends is simple. How it ends is that it doesn't.





	

It doesn’t end in a bloodied fight to the death with a wendigo, or a dramatic self-sacrifice. It doesn't end in a round of mind-boxing Lucifer in the Apocalypse 2.0. It doesn't end in a 6 by 8 foot prison cell.   
  
How it ends is simple. How it ends is that it doesn't.

They don’t get a beach vacation (there’s no time, what with Cas running the shop and Dean distracting him). But they get their own place, two blocks from the store, both premises courtesy of Eddie - an old hunter friend of Bobby’s who retired happily before being dragged back for one last hunt that ended with his death. They make a pact: that’s not going to be them. They’re out, and they’re out for good. Free.

Sam continues to hunt, for a while. He’ll meet up with Eileen and the two of them take on the gig; save a lot of folks and kill a lot of monsters. But eventually, they too decide to call it quits. Settle down in a two-story a couple blocks down from Dean and Cas’ place. Domestic bliss it is not; they set up a kind of hotline for all things hunter-related, always on call to offer a bit of lore (from Sam) or advice on which weapon would best slay a Manananggal (from Eileen). But Sam is happy; happy in a way hunting with big bro could never achieve, and that’s all Dean ever wanted.

The shop is a two story building Dean found in Sedgwick County, a little over 3 hours away from the Bunker. Dean used to go there sometimes, on a rare quiet day or after a tough hunt. It’s 60 square feet of cramped bookshelves, a winding staircase that leads to the apartment up top, and grubby little sofa-chairs squished into the back so people can sit and read a while. After some very suspect but passable paperwork whipped up by Sam, Dean and Cas find themselves the new owners of a bookstore.

The only problem is the sign above the awning out front: washed out enamel lettering that reads ‘The Crooked Book’, probably the least cool name for a bookshop, certainly not what Dean would have gone with. Of course Cas would like it. Dean keeps saying he’s gonna repaint and rebrand the place, but he never gets around to it.

_Lights out Winchester._

And of course, there's the problem of no one knowing how the hell to run a business. It's not like they had a solid foundation of work experience between them, unless you count cracking skulls and fixing up the Impala as work (which Dean does, thank you very much).

None of it seems to matter on the day of opening, though. They get to work, figure it out as they go along, and manage to turn a profit within the first six months. It’s kinda fun, too, Dean supposes. They can fool around amongst the shelves while pretending to restock.

They’ll run the store six days a week. Drum up custom and regulars through word of mouth. After the first 6 months, Dean tells Cas to slow it down a little. Take a weekend off once in a while, instead of spending it between shelves taking inventory.

On one such Sunday morning, Dean finds Cas sitting at the counter, next to an old cash register that makes a _‘ch-ching’_ sound when you open it. He’s doing the books; wearing an old sweater of Dean’s, with a steaming cup of coffee at hand. It’s still early. His hair is mussed, his face weary and sleep-lined. Dawning sunlight peeks through the windows and casts shadows along his cheekbones and jaw. Dean wants to take a picture. _Click._

“Hey, Cas.” He’ll say. Or maybe, “Morning sunshine.”

Cas looks up and smiles wide, teeth white, pink gums peeking out.

He says, “Good morning, Dean,” and they kiss. It’s soft and lingering, and Cas’ tongue is hot from his coffee.

Dean pulls up a seat beside him and their wrists touch as they leaf through their accounts.  
  
_How you hanging in there Winchester? Lost your marbles yet?_  
  
Sam comes around for dinner. His hair is shorter, sitting just above his shoulders, and his cheeks are rosy. Maybe he’s put on a few pounds around the middle. He looks good though, healthy. Eileen sits beside him at the dinner table and they share in the food that Dean cooks. Steak and potatoes, or a giant lasagna, something hearty like that.

Cas sits at Dean’s side and hooks his ankle around Dean’s under the table. Dean will try and cop a feel until a raised brow from Cas stops him. For a minute or so.

They exchange stories and anecdotes, explain that the shop is doing well. It gets late into the evening and Dean brings out pie and coffee with a flourish. Eileen declines, maybe. Sam and Eileen will have an announcement.

 **We’re pregnant** , she signs.

It takes Dean a second to work it out, he’s still slow with ASL, but then he and Cas are up and out of their seats, embracing the glowing brunette.

 **I’m so happy for you,** Cas signs fluently. **If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just let us know.**

Dean hugs Sam tightly, clapping him on the back. “Congrats, kiddo,” He’ll say. “I’m so proud of you.”

_You’re losing it, man. You’re losing it. You gotta keep it together, okay?_

After dinner, Sam and Eileen say their goodbyes.

Dean and Cas stand at the sink, washing and drying dishes together.

Man, I’m happy, Dean thinks.

Maybe he’ll have the courage to tell Cas.  
  
“You make me so happy."

“I’m glad,” Cas says, and plants a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you.” Dean will say.

Then he splashes Cas with dishwater.

Later that night, Cas takes Dean to bed and says it back.

I love you, he says, as he presses Dean into their mattress.

I’ll always find you, he says, as he opens Dean up so gently.

You’ll never be alone again, he says, as he pushes inside, gasping into Dean’s neck.

Dean grips the back of Cas’ neck with one hand, uses the other to pull Cas in. Cas is so close, he’s practically crushing him, but Dean needs this, for some reason. Needs to feel Cas’ weight and his warmth, needs to not feel alone.

_But you are you are alone you’ll always end up alone_

Cas is panting into Dean’s mouth, his stubble rough against Dean’s cheek. Dean groans at the feel of Cas inside him, hot and relentless. Cas would hold onto Dean’s face as he approaches climax, watch him as he goes. Maybe he’d say it again.

“You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m with you.”

Cas’ hand strokes down Dean’s cheek, then he takes Dean’s hand into his own and squeezes.

Dean squeezes back tightly, holds on like he’s about to slip away.  
  
_Slipping away, God, you’re slipping away_

Dean comes, mouth open, back arched, clutching at Cas’ skin.

Cas pulses inside him, fills him up in every way.

 _Please please don't leave me here_  
  
They’ll fall asleep. Just like that. Tangled and sweaty and together.

That’s how it ends.

It ends with Sam and Eileen and a bookstore and a bed and Cas and happiness.

Not here. Not like this.

Dean wipes his hand off on the mattress. Smooths a hand over his stomach, empty and sore.

He picks up what’s left of his chalk to mark another day onto the wall.

He curls up on the mattress and waits for the end.  



End file.
